


Castling

by BestHandwriting



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Last Exile AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestHandwriting/pseuds/BestHandwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Harklight faces his final crossroad, he can’t help but look back at how his simple life as Principal Slaine’s aide fell apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O-O

The minute Harklight kills Barouhcruz, he knows it’s over.

Maestro Lemrina must be furious with him. Despite her general impassiveness regarding anyone but herself and Slaine, she had rather liked Barouhcruz. Unlike Harklight, Barouhcruz was loyal. He was obedient, strong, and just as classist as her.

Now, he is nothing but useless. His body stains the floor scarlet, Harklight’s dagger in his back. Brothers of the highest standard, the Maestro liked to call them. A pair of prodigies, others whispered. Yet when the time came, some brother Harklight turned out to be, betraying his flesh and blood in a heartbeat.

But in the end, that hardly matters.  Lady Lemrina will not allow him to continue after such an act.

The recognition does not stop Harklight from stepping closer to her, nor does it stop him from voicing his heart at last. “Please, free Milord Slaine.”

The Maestro laughs so sweetly for a girl who lost her heart long ago. Her hands unclasp the pearl necklace around her neck, leaving her neck rather bare. It’s the only time he’s seen her without it; even Slaine had never seen her take it off. “If he asked me himself, I might just grant it!”

As she holds out the necklace to him, it glitters in the light, temptingly beautiful. “Come on, Harklight, take your reward.”

Taking it will be a mistake. Maestro Lemrina does not reward her servants, not when they are supposed to be as heartless as she is. But despite his better judgement, he allows her to slip the necklace around his neck. It clasps with a quiet snap, its weight like a noose.

Perhaps it is his noose. There is no other reason he would be entrusted with such wealth.

“So why, why are you so devoted to my dearest Slaine?”

He could lie. He could lie and say it’s his duty as a servant to be devoted to his master. That’s what she wants to hear. Maybe, just maybe, she’d spare his life if he lied.

But Slaine…

Slaine, most beautiful, lovely, kind Slaine…

Harklight can still almost envision their first meeting, how Slaine had approached him with hesitant curiosity in his pretty eyes and asked, “Who are you?”

Now, that simple question’s all he can think of. _Who am I to care so much for Slaine?_

\----

The days blur together for the poor young trainee- every day is training from sunlight to sundown, and every night is trying to crush the heart beating beneath his chest. _No,_ he tries to scold himself, _I have no heart. The Maestro said so._

They stand him to attention with the other aides-to-be every morning for the usual recitations. “My loyalty is to the Maestro! I am the Maestro’s to command!”

_Wouldn’t it be nice to have a name like Maestro instead of a number_? The little boy ponders often, but never speaks. Once he vocalizes the thought, but the other aide-to-be just frowns and replies, “We do not want for anything. If our master decides to give us a name, then we accept it with gratitude. If not, our titles are enough.”

“Seven! Fix your posture.” The little boy faces forward, any trace of expression dissipating. Cruhteo is displeased, and nothing is worse than that. “10 more repetitions of the recitations, all on your own.”

Seven hesitates. He’s never had to do them on his own before.

“Now!”

Seven bows his head and steps forward. The stares of the other aides-to-be burn, even though they’re utterly emotionless. Perhaps that’s the life of an aide, stifling judgments so deeply that only other aides can recognizes the most miniscule of differences that betray emotion. “My loyalty is to the Maestro! I am the Maestro’s to command! My loyalty is to the Maestro! I am the Maestro’s to command! My loyalty-”

“Seven, your posture!”

Seven forces his head up, but his mask starts to slip. He can’t do this, not in front of all of the others. They may not show it, but they find his humiliation as amusing as Cruhteo does. “My loyalty is to the Maestro! I am the Maestro’s to command! My-”

“That’s enough for now.” Crutheo glides forward, hand gripping his cane so hard his knuckles shine ivory. “See me in my office after today’s session, Seven.”

Seven slinks back to his spot in line without another word. Though he dreads the coming meeting, he doesn’t dare let it show on his face. He’s in enough trouble as it is.

And when the next dawn comes, he stands straighter than anyone, blood seeping through his uniform the whole time.

\---

While the stars turn in unpredictable ways, Seven’s life continues in an endless monotony. Wake, train, sleep, eat and drink in the intervals in between. They say he’ll serve a master someday, but that day seems to slip farther and farther away with every passing minute. He’ll remain a number until there’s no identity left, only an empty shell of a unit manager.

“Seven! Another repetition of the recitation, all on your own!”

Seven steps forward, forcing his head high. There is nothing to fear. “My loyalty is to the Maestro! I am the Maestro’s to command!”

Cruhteo’s steely gaze sizes Seven up for a minute. Once, Seven might have shivered under that much attention. But now, he merely fixes his gaze on a point over Cruhteo’s shoulder and remains rigid. “Come here, Seven.”

Whispers pass among the other aides-to-be, but Seven follows orders exactly. He glides forward like the perfect aide should, earning a satisfied nod from his superior.

“Silence, all of you!” As Crutheo lifts his cane, the others quiet down as if they had never spoken at all. “Thirteen, come forward.”

Thirteen, one of the older, most capable trainees of the lot, steps forward. His grey robes brush the ground. They’re still a bit big, but he has to get used to them now. Soon enough, he will be expected to wear them as the uniform of an aide, likely to one of the Guild’s highest officials.

Seven tries not to fiddle with the sleeves of his stark-white uniform; any signs of nervousness are enough to ignite Cruhteo’s ire.

_I have no heart. I have no emotions._

“Thirteen, defeat Seven.”

Thirteen lunges at command, leaving Seven no choice but to dodge. The attacks fly in rapid succession, and he sidesteps, one after another. Thirteen pauses for a moment to recuperate from exertion, but Seven can’t let him.

He won’t let Cruhteo humiliate him again in front of the others.

And if there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s been a graceful fighter. Seven ends the fight with a roundhouse kick, sending Thirteen flying to the ground.

Thirteen struggles to get up as Cruhteo slinks to his side. There is no room for weakness among the aides-to-be, no room for anything but the best.

“Stay down, Thirteen.” The trainer slams his cane right by Thirteen’s head, and Seven can’t help but stiffen at the boom. But to his amazement, Cruhteo stares not at Thirteen, but at a lone figure guised in the shadows. “He certainly takes after his brother, don’t you agree, Maestro Lemrina?”

The Maestro herself steps into the light at his words. She’s rather pretty, dressed in sapphire robes that compliment her sky blue eyes, but the cruel smile twisting her youthful face ruins the image.  “I would expect nothing less. Father ensured they would be perfect for this duty.”

“He is rather young, though. To ensure successful training, we generally do not like to send them off until they pledge.”

Maestro Lemrina shakes her head at his words. “No, no, that’s no issue. Seven will be an obedient aide, won’t you, Seven?”

At the addressment, Seven drops to one knee and bows his head. “Yes, Lady Lemrina.” To say anything else would mean harsh punishment if he was lucky. And if he wasn’t… he would rather not ponder the alternatives.

“See? He will do. My brother gets awfully lonely when I’m unable to visit him.” Seven tries not the show the shock on his face, but he cannot keep it completely off. Serving the Principal Slaine? There is no higher honor beyond directly serving the Maestro. Why would they allow someone so young to serve someone so important?

But even if Cruhteo dislikes it, he cannot deny the Maestro’s wish.

“Seven, stand up!” Cruhteo calls, punctuating his words with a stomp of his cane. “You have ten minutes to collect your things and go with the Maestro. You won’t be returning.”

“Yes, sir.” Seven obeys orders almost perfectly. He keeps straight posture and a graceful stride, but as he spares a last look at his fellow aides-to-be, he can’t quite keep the pride off his face.

Finally, finally, he will stop being a number and earn a name.

\---

Being alone with Maestro Lemrina is a rather daunting experience for someone as inferior as Seven. Though she speaks almost kindly, the batch of sapphire roses with her is more intimidating than lovely. Engineered to be nothing less than perfection, their thorns are as sharp as the blossoms are beautiful.

“Wait right here,” she orders, barely glancing back at him as she rejoins her brother.

From the shadows, Seven gets his first glance of his master. It’s rather unimpressive. The boy sits curled up in a little ball, face hidden in his knees. He could be any other child, if not for the snow white robes he wears. Only the lowest of Guild members, the unit operators and the aides-to-be, should wear white, and they’re all relatively old.

Regardless, Slaine had always insisted on the color, or so Seven had heard.

Lady Lemrina pulls Slaine close in a way that’s rather uncomfortable to watch, murmuring things that aren’t meant for an aide’s ears. It doesn’t seem quite right, the way the Maestro handles her brother, but what does he know? He is a mere aide, heart crushed in training. What does he know of familial love?

But to his relief, she pulls away from Slaine at last and gets to the business at hand. “Slaine, I have a present for you.”

“A present?” Slaine finally looks up, and Seven’s heart skips a beat. He’s very pretty, ash-blond and brilliant-eyed. Like his sister, orange markings protrude from the corners of his eyes. But there’s something different about him, something more delicate and precious than the cold Maestro.

Seven vows to keep it that way. That is his duty as an aide, after all.

And if there’s more rationale behind that, he cannot admit it, not even to himself.

“Come over here!” The Maestro claps her hands twice, and Seven steps into the light. “He will be your aide, Slaine.”

Slaine dashes to Seven with much more gusto than he showed towards his sister. Though his eyes are still red-rimmed, he manages to give Seven a rather curious smile. “Who… who are you?”

“You’re going to have to name him, Slaine.”

Slaine frowns as her ponders the Maestro’s words. Seven tries not to shift impatiently. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for years, and at last, it’s here. At last, he’ll have his own name.

“A name… We have to name to themes, so maybe light? Yes, something that relates to light would be good. Then that would mean… Lucciola! But depending on how you spell it, it could be a bug so that’s out… Lux! That’s too plain…  What about Hark… That’s it! Harklight, like that line, ‘Hark, what light through yonder window breaks!’”

Slaine grins at the selection, waiting for Seven to confirm it. But for a moment, he’s too stunned to speak.

_Harklight… My name is Harklight!_

If he had not be so well-trained to be emotionless, Harklight might have grinned. “Thank you very much, Milord. Harklight is a wonderful name!”

Slaine starts to speak, but Lady Lemrina cuts him off with a well-thrown rose at Harklight. Though she doesn’t speak, he can already guess his fault. The most important part of first meetings is an introduction, and he’s already failed it.

“My name is Harklight. I will your new aide.” He gives a shallow bow to accentuate his words, but Slaine’s smile slips away.

And until Maestro Lemrina leaves them to their peace, he doesn’t reply. “So, have you ever played checkers, Harklight?”

“No, Milord.”

Harklight stiffens as Slaine grabs his hands. This isn’t how being an aide was supposed to be. They were just supposed to serve, not make acquaintance with their masters. But in the back of his mind, he can’t help but wonder if maybe that’s why  _he_ was selected above the others.

If there’s someone Slaine needs, it’s someone beyond his sister to keep him company. The perfect, heartless aide could never do that.

So when Slaine smiles, Harklight allows a little bit of his heart to function.

That is his duty.

“Well then, I’ll just have to teach you!”

\---

Slaine’s a rather whimsical soul, a rarity among the guild. From Harklight’s first days with him, he always watched the skies, his gaze on the birds and vanships that soar with them. Sometimes, they even sit on the edge of the launch deck, feet brushing clouds. These are the days Slaine seems happiest, but Harklight doesn’t understand why. Isn’t the Guild enough for him?

But one day, Slaine whisks him away on one of those ships and Harklight can’t look back.

Up there…

“It’s wonderful, don’t you think?” Slaine glances back from the pilot’s seat, eyes glimmering in the sunlight. “A whole world where anyone can fly freely, bound by no rules except the heart.”

“It is,” he agrees. It is his duty to say such things. After the Maestro, Slaine is the next highest entity. Whatever he speaks is law, even if sometimes, Harklight thinks his viewpoint is rather naïve. “Please keep your eyes on the sky ahead, Milord. The skies can be dangerous.”

“Sorry!” Slaine turns around rather quickly, even though he has no obligation to listen to Harklight’s requests. “Do you like the sky, Harklight?”

A personal question. Harklight isn’t supposed to answer those. They imply the aide has emotions, has a heart even, and Harklight isn’t supposed to have either.

And if his heart pounds in his chest anyways, he calms it with steady breaths. “You like it a lot.”

“But do you?” Before Harklight can respond, a flock of birds swoops in front of the vanship, and Slaine’s attention diverts. “Ah, rain birds!”

Snow birds, they should be called for their pristine white feathers, or maybe Guild birds. But no one leaves the naming to Harklight; he’s an ordinary aide, devoid of opinions and emotions. At least, he should be.

But later, as he draws water for Slaine’s evening bath, he admits, “I love the sky. It’s very beautiful.”

Slaine doesn’t hear him. He never can.

\---

To most of the Guild’s shock, Slaine attends the funeral of a unit manager. It’s a rather tedious ceremony, but Harklight sits through it without complaint. It is merely his duty to his master, even if he cannot understand the reasoning by Slaine’s interest.

It isn’t until later that his question finally gets answered. “Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, huh. All these people who die for the Guild… We force them to do it. We take away their individuality and teach them to destroy anyone who Lemrina doesn’t like, yet never consider what they might have wanted. Is that really fair?”

Harklight could say so much about it. He could speak of the threats in training, how he had been told that if he failed, he would end up a unit manager at best. He could speak of the few unit managers he stumbled across, all mindless bodies serving the whims of the Maestro.

But in the end, he is supposed to be just like them, a heartless and emotionless machine sent to serve the Principal.  “I wouldn’t know, Milord.”

“It doesn’t seem particularly right. And when I go through the ceremony... I’ll be just like them. My sister can do what she wants and I won’t have the mind to stop her.”

The Pledge Ceremony… Aides were fortunate enough to be allowed a mind after it. They were supposed to be mindless servants from the training, so why bother completely eliminating their individuality and capability to make decisions for the good of their masters on their own?

Slaine is not so lucky. He too will lose his identity that day. Otherwise, Lady Lemrina would never be able to force Slaine to go through it.

Kill to be the Maestro.

Slaine is too kind a soul for that; he always has been. Giving Harklight food when he had been denied it, calling him a friend, even taking him along on his wild adventure, Slaine has always been too nice to Harklight. The same will surely apply even to strangers.

“You shouldn’t worry too much, Milord. Everything will work out for the best.”

 “I’d like to think so, Harklight. But unless if I get away…” Slaine frown deepens, but he wraps his arms around Harklight anyways, close enough that Harklight fears Slaine will notice his heart pounding. “What’s that?”

Harklight glances at the screen over his shoulder. A vibrant orange vanship flies through the tumultuous skies, maneuvering with incredible skill. “One of Anatoray’s couriers by the looks of the ship.”

“Zoom in on it.” Harklight does as asked, showing grainy images of a blood-eyed pilot and his frightened navigator. “So this is Orange…”

When Slaine lets go, Harklight suppresses the urge to shiver. The air seems so much colder than it had earlier, even though nothing’s changed at all.

“Harklight, ready my ship for me.” Slaine stares right at him, his blue-green eyes piercing. “We’re heading out.”

“Yes, Milord.”

\---

“Happy Birthday, Slaine!” The Silvana’s crew cries out, all bright smiles and cheery attitudes. Asseylum stands in the front of the group, a covered plate in her hands.

Slaine’s hands fly to his mouth, but it is not the shock so much as the tears welling up in Slaine’s eyes that is odd. Slaine is never grateful, never appreciative in the slightest. But this simple surprise, food and a few well wishes, earns more gratitude that Harklight’s ever seen him show.

“I-”

“Come on, Slaine, take off the cover!” Calm cries, lopsided grin on his face. “Asseylum worked very hard on it for you!”

Tentatively, Slaine uncovers the most hideous looking cake Harklight’s ever seen. The red frosting is uneven, and the cake sags on one side, but Slaine’s smile widens at the sight. “It looks wonderful!”

He even swipes a little frosting off the cake with his gloves still on. Harklight tries to watch emotionlessly, but the mindless dirtying of white gloves pains him. It won’t be easy to get the dye out, considering the Silvana lacks anything but the basics to wash clothes.

“It tastes delicious!” Asseylum beams at his words, and it’s lovely, he supposes. Slaine certainly seems charmed, so that should be enough for him.

But there’s something about Asseylum… Harklight should have no emotion about her, but he cannot pretend he’s not the slightest bit averse to her.

“Harklight, you should try some!” Slaine smiles so bright at Harklight, he almost says yes.

“I’m fine for now, thanks.”

Because when the world falls back into order, he is not a friend or family like the rest are. His heart is buried too deep for that.

In the end, fate names him the observer, watching from the distance and never interfering with his master’s happiness.  He is the aide, the servant, the silent shadow of a Principal.

He can never want that life, the warmth, the love.

And as they sing their happy birthdays and well wishes, the date rings too familiar in his mind. Slaine’s 17 th birthday.

Soon enough, Maestro Lemrina will come back for her brother and ensure he attends his ceremony.

What will he do then? Protect Slaine and watch his heart shatter? Or betray his master and be left alone?

What is the right choice?

(What is  _his_ best choice?)

It’s decisions like these that make him wonder why.

Why did he leave his heart intact when he should have crushed it years ago?

\---                                                                        

Maestro Lemrina drops her glass at the latest battle report, too concerned with it to bother issuing Harklight orders to clean it up. Regardless, he follows his training and leaves his spot to clean the mess. He can’t let a single fragment remain on the floor- allowing the Maestro or the Principal to tread on such dangerous ground would be a tremendous error.

It is his duty to pick up the pieces and clean up all their messes.

He has to...

Without realizing it, he cuts himself on one of the shards. The pain barely registers, and quickly enough, he’s back to work.

“Harklight.” Asseylum speaks rather soft, making it all too easy to ignore her. “Harklight, you can’t leave Slaine like this. You have to get him out of here.”

He continues to pick up the pieces in silence.

“Asseylum, we have to leave while we have the chance.” Inaho is always no-nonsense, but it is the slight plea in his voice that finally piques Harklight’s attention.

“But we don’t know where to go!” She steps forward, reaching out towards Harklight, but Harklight avoids her gentle grasp. “Please, Harklight. Help us get out of here. We need to get back to Silvana. Slaine can come with us… and you too, Harklight! You don’t belong in the Guild. Please, Harklight! Please!”

“It’s not use,” Inaho says as he herds Asseylum away. “We have to find our way out ourselves.”

Harklight picks up another piece of glass, meeting his reflection. He frowns rather deeply. As an aide, he’s supposed to have no emotions or heart. So why… why does he…

A sudden tapping catches his attention. Harklight glances up to see Slaine with his head on the table, absentmindedly tapping out a rhythm over and over again. Immediately, he starts to translate the message.

And when he realizes what it says, he can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.

_Harklight. Harklight. Harklight. Harklight._

Even as Slaine loses his mind, he still remembers Harklight.

“Milord…” Harklight whispers, his mind already made up.

The time for being heartless has long since passed. Harklight cannot play the obedient subordinate any longer.

“Follow me,” he whispers, just loud enough that Asseylum and Inaho will hear. “We don’t have much time.”

\---

As they reach the vanship, Harklight almost considers turning back. He can still play the loyal servant if he turns around and takes them back to Maestro Lemrina. But as he looks at Slaine, he can’t obey the orders ingrained in his genes. Slaine is too far gone from the master he knew, lost in the mad, mad world of mind control.

If Harklight doesn’t get Slaine out of here… There may not be a Slaine to care for anymore.

While Inaho and Asseylum climb in, Harklight doesn’t dare leave Slaine’s side. Though they’ve bound his wrists to keep him from doing anything too rash, he could easily hurt himself more if left to his own devices.

“Take Slaine with you.”

Inaho glances down from the pilot’s seat, mouth twisted in a frown. “You can pilot, can’t you? There are plenty of vanships here.”

Harklight shakes his head. “If we all leave now, they’ll come after us immediately. We’d never get away safely.”

If there’s one thing Harklight can appreciate about Inaho, it’s his rational mindset. Inaho doesn’t question him any further. Instead, he helps Harklight get Slaine situated in the navigator’s seat without another word.

When Slaine’s settled in as best he can, Harklight leaps down from the ship. But when he prepares to leave, rational Inaho can’t leave well enough alone. “What are you going to do, Harklight?”

“What I should have done all along.” Harklight offers the slightest of wry smiles at his words. There’s no reason to be heartless anymore, but showing emotions on his face is still incredibly difficult. Slaine had tried to get him to work on expressions before, but Harklight was never good at it. What was that ridiculous thing he always said?  _If you like something…_

Harklight can’t quite remember anymore. It’s not important, anyhow, not when the only option left is the one he should have selected years ago. Lifting his head high, he vows, “I will destroy anyone who tries to harm Milord Slaine.”

“But you’re one person. What can you possibly do…” Inaho trails off, realization dawning in his unsettling blood-red eyes. “Slaine needs you, Harklight. There has to be some alternative instead of-”

“I’ll be fine.” He spares one last look at Slaine. Slaine laughs a little now, blissfully unaware of what passes below him.

Slaine had always said that the unit managers’ lack of individuality was a rather cruel fate.

Now, Harklight can see why.

Slaine’s smile’s still so beautiful, his eyes so bright, yet at the same time, it’s so horrible. There’s no life behind them, no  _Slaine_ left in his delicate form.

Harklight turns away rather quickly; he can’t bear to look at Slaine anymore. “If you don’t leave, I’m going to have to kill you too.”

Harklight exits quietly, ignoring Asseylum’s cries. But as the door shuts behind him, Inaho leaves one last good-bye. “If you change your mind, the Silvana’s always open to you.”

The door slams shut. With one last glance back, Harklight pulls out the grenade he had kept in his pocket.  _Change my mind?_

As Harklight sprints across the bridge to the rest of the Guild’s ship, he pulls the pin and throws it behind him.

There’s no going back anymore.

\---

_Who am I?_

Seven, the aide-to-be who never could quite destroy his heart.

Harklight, the aide named so kindly by Slaine.

Harklight, the observer of the life he could never live.

Harklight, the betrayer of the only one he ever cared for.

Harklight, the friend who never deserved such a title.

_Something that relates to light would be good._

Back then, Slaine had smiled, bright and happy without noticing the blue rose Lemrina had thrown at the little aide. 

Slaine doesn’t smile genuinely anymore.

How can he mourn it when he let Slaine shatter? He broke all the bridges connecting them, leaving no one but himself to blame for his loneliness utterly alone.

He’s hardly worthy of such of wonderful name anymore.

“Why did you help him escape, Harklight?” The Maestro asks. She bends down in front of him, lifting his chin like she would with Slaine. Perhaps she’ll take her fill from him too, hold him and kiss him and steal away everything he planned to save for  _him_ until there’s nothing left to take away.

But even though he’s lost everything else, he cannot let that happen too.

“I am…”

_You and me, Harklight, we’re…_ Slaine grins in his mind, so close Harklight could turn and…

What use is there in dreaming of things that will never come to pass anymore?

“I am Milord Slaine’s friend.”

Lemrina jerks back, eyes flashing with something ugly. “His friend?!” Her hand moves to slap him, but already, he bows his head in penance.

The Maestro is not to be disobeyed. Every servant trains from a young age to be loyal to her first and foremost, then to the master.  _My loyalty is to the Maestro,_ he used to recite, over and over again when he trained.  _I am the Maestro’s to the command._

And if mere recitations weren’t enough, the scars that lacerate his back are.

He lifts his head. The time for following orders has long since passed him by.

And though it’s foolish to think of such things now, he can’t stop the questions from echoing in his mind. Would Slaine be proud of what he’s about to do? Would he be proud, knowing Harklight finally revealed the heart so deeply locked inside himself? Would he smile and say,  _I knew you could do it_ , or was he too far gone for even that?

He’ll never know now.

“Yes,” he finally speaks, voice unwavering, “he is my friend, and I will not betray him.”

His heart pounds in his chest but he holds steady. There is nothing left to fear. Only one fate awaits him, and he resigned himself to it long ago.

And for the first time in front of Lemrina, he allows himself a smile.

_This is emotion. This is what it means to love._

Perhaps it’s fitting, as the necklace burns into his neck and turns his body to stardust, that’s the last act of his.

_If you like something, you ought to show it on your face._

He smiles a little wider. He remembers it now.

_Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust_ .  _Just like you said, Slaine._

And as the ashes shower down like stars, Maestro Lemrina stands up and whispers to the remains of a boy whose heart should have died long before the body, “Liar.”


	2. Epilogue

The next wave of pilots belongs to a world that isn’t Slaine’s. They pilot Vespas, capture skyfish, and live like one ginormous family bound by air and ground alike. They’re so different from the sky goers he knows, yet he finds more solace among than he ever did back home.

Maybe it’s because they welcome him with open hearts and arms, no strings attached. The only people who have ever treated him so kindly were the crew of the Silvana and _him._

And sometimes, it’s almost too much to bear.

Slaine tried to kill the Queen. He robbed Inaho of his chance to fly forever with a bullet to the eye. He deserves nothing but cruelty, so why, why does he inherit a kind world and a thousand new beginnings while the best of them get nothing but tragedy?

“Why did it have to be Harklight?” he screams to the sky sometimes. “Why did you take him away from me?”

No one ever answers.

“Why did you have to die?”

Once, Inaho told him of their final meeting, how Harklight insisted Slaine be taken to safety even if he had to pay his life for it. _I will destroy anyone who dares harm Milord Slaine._

He failed to mention that included himself.

Slaine tries to forget it all among the sky pirates. But every time he thinks he’ll achieve that,  one of them, a determined little pilot named Eddelrittuo, will unintentionally say something that reminds him too much of those days gone by.

“I’ve been taking advantage of my navi,” Eddelrittuo admits one day as they claim another skyfish for the Silvius. “I just assumed… I thought she would always be there and never stopped to think of how she might be feeling.”

Slaine has a story about that, a story that spans too few years and tells too little of the angel within it. It is his one great secret from the sky pirates, something he’s not ready to share yet and may never be. But for now, he has to start. He cannot let another Harklight come to pass, not to Eddelrittuo. And with a deep breath, he steels himself.

_Harklight, give me the strength to speak._

“I had someone like that once too. I thought he’d always be there for me. I never thought to ask him about his feelings, nor did I tell him about mine.” It hurts, it hurts so much, but he cannot stop now that he’s started, even as his voice cracks, even as tears well up in his eyes. “Now, he’s gone, and I’ll never tell him… I’ll never know how he felt…”

“Slaine,” Eddelrittuo breaths, her voice laced with sympathy, “I’m sorry.”

“I have no one to blame but myself.”

She falls quiet, allowing the ship to run its course for a bit. But as they near their destination, she asks one last question. “Is that why you fly with no navigator?”

Sometimes, when Slaine prepares for take-off, he turns back and asks, “Are you ready, Harklight?”

There’s never an answer, but Harklight rarely answered anyways. Aides weren’t supposed to feel. They had been trained that way by Lemrina, throwing away their hearts for servitude.

But sometimes, Slaine thinks he hears a curt reply or sees the ghost of a familiar smile in return. In the end, Harklight had never quite managed Lemrina’s command, no matter how hard he tried.

“Yes,” Harklight used to reply, voice warm with fondness.

And though he can’t manage the same now, Slaine can’t lose the image as he finally gives Eddelrittuo his answer.

“Yes.”

_If you could see me now, Harklight, would you be proud?_

And though no one responds, Slaine would like to think Harklight looked down in that moment and smiled. _I always was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the short epilogue I promised would be put up today! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I wrote another Hasure tragedy. I'm sorry. Someday, I'll write something happy, but today is not that day.
> 
> Yes, if you're wondering, that line's from Romeo and Juliet. Yes, it's actually "But soft, what light..." not "Hark, what light..." But if you look up "hark light," that line's what comes up so I had to make that joke in one of my fics.
> 
> To give credit where credit's due, I was somewhat inspired to write this by [these gorgeous pieces of artwork](https://twitter.com/makunoAZ/status/593338863549984768). Well, to be more precise, they inspired me to watch Last Exile, then I wanted to write an AU of it, and it turned into this. If you haven't seen Last Exile, I highly recommend you watch it. You'll probably laugh when you realize the character Slaine mirrors. They're nothing alike.
> 
> Why is this 1/2, you wonder? Tomorrow, I'll post an epilogue of sorts to this. I was going to include it at the end and just make this a one-shot, but it stands better on its own. It's not particularly long, just a little scene after the end. Until then, have fun imagining what it will be!


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